


Flowers Lean Towards the Sun

by NeoVenus22



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-03
Updated: 2010-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:11:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoVenus22/pseuds/NeoVenus22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Pegasus galaxy is rarely kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers Lean Towards the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: 1x10, 'The Storm'; 1x11, 'The Eye'

It was Teyla's first Earth-based memorial service. Major Sheppard and Lieutenant Ford had always been particularly eager to share elements of their culture with her, but she had a feeling this was not what they had in mind. It was a somber affair, the lights dimmed, the respectful whispers echoing hauntingly.

The person next to Teyla let out a soft hiccup. She glanced to her right curiously and was surprised to find Chuck the technician with watery eyes. Without thinking, she lay her hand on his arm and kept it there until the end of Elizabeth's speech.

By the time the crowd started to disperse, Chuck's breathing was normal and his eyes were dry. "Thanks," he muttered to her quietly.

"I did not realize they were friends of yours," she said of the dead men.

"Colin and Jase and I used to work some night shifts together," he said. "They were good guys. Funny."

Most people had left by that point, saddened and respectful, but still having jobs to do. There was a city to be drained, damage to attempt to undo. Neither the city nor its inhabitants could rest, even to grieve.

And yet Chuck remained, looking as though he had not yet realized everyone else was going back to work. Teyla decided to usher him out quickly before anyone noticed, looping her hand across his back and around his shoulders, guiding him away.

Perhaps it was not the wisest move, taking him to the training gym, given that if anyone wanted to find her, this would be one of the first places they'd look. Still, it felt calm and safe, and blessedly quiet, a sanctuary.

Chuck smiled at her wanly, coming out of his reverie. "This is nice of you, but I'm fine, really. I should probably get back to work."

"I understand," she said. "I just thought it would be good to have a moment to reflect. After all, it is never easy to lose friends."

"No offense or anything, but that's not all that comforting to hear, given that you've been doing this a lot longer than me."

At these words, and the string of increasingly dark thoughts they prompted, her eyes fell on the bantos rods in the corner. "My people were lost primarily to the Wraith. I lost my father in a culling. Perhaps it was naïve to expect, perhaps my father sheltered me from the darker truths of this galaxy, but I had always assumed that this war was human versus Wraith. To have us fighting each other when this war is already so large..." She shook her head, trying not to get too caught up in her own distress. "The Genii were people the Athosians once trusted. It is awful having our trust broken this way."

Chuck was silent for a long time, and Teyla realized with a sinking sensation of guilt she might have gone too far, despite her attempts. "I am sorry," she said, "those were perhaps not the words you wanted to hear."

"Not exactly, no," he admitted with a half-smile. "But thanks for trying. At least, that's what I assume you were trying to do."

"Trying to try?" she said, a grin of her own threatening to emerge.

"Trying to cheer me up. I appreciate it."

"I am only sorry I wasn't more successful."

"No, I—" But rather than finishing his thought, Chuck instead opted to gaze around the gym, untouched by the flood and blessed by the sunlight streaming through the orange-tinted windows. The beaming sun seemed almost mocking, returning so callous and cheerful now, when it had abandoned them to the storm and the horrors hiding within.

"This place is really nice," Chuck said. "I can see why you come here to train."

"You are welcome to join me," she offered reflexively.

To her surprise, Chuck laughed a little. To her further surprise, a flutter ran down her spine at the sound. "Yeah, thanks and all, but no thanks," he said with a crooked grin. "You'd probably kill me—" He stopped shortly, his smile not melting away but rather, being stamped out of existence altogether. He looked stricken. "Bad choice of words."

Teyla nodded in understanding; she often found Earth colloquialisms to rear their heads inappropriately.

"I really should get back," he flustered.

She'd kept him too long. Not that she thought Doctor Weir would object, given the circumstances, but Teyla and Chuck were not so familiar with each other that she did not feel a small flutter of guilt anyway. "Of course."

They stepped into the hallway, blinking to adjust their sight to the dimmer, bluer lighting. It occurred to her oddly that their silence was not awkward, but companionable. In the wake of tragedy, it was hard not to feel a glimmering thread of connection. She was a bit sorrowful to end their encounter, as she did not feel she really knew Chuck at all. "Do you enjoy your work?"

"It's not glamorous work, by any stretch of the imagination," he admitted. "But that aside, I can hardly complain about the post itself. I'm insanely lucky." His face pursed in thought. "Even today. Especially today."

"Today seems to be a good day to be appreciative of the things we have," she agreed.

"Or on a more melancholy note, think about the things we haven't done."

Chuck sounded faraway as he spoke, and she turned to him with a curious 'what?' on her lips, only to find Chuck's mouth there instead. He kissed her, slow and sweet, proud and yet cautious at the same time. It was only when cool air replaced the warm heat of his mouth that Teyla realized her eyes had been closed.

"Oh, um. Okay. Sorry about that," Chuck said. "It just felt like..."

Teyla kissed the corner of his mouth. She understood better than he thought. She was hardly going to begrudge him the need to feel alive in the wake of so much death. She was only surprised, and a little pleased, that he chose her as his vessel. "Perhaps next time, circumstances won't be as..."

"Awful?" was his suggestion, paired with a slightly self-deprecating smile. "Wait... 'next time'?" His eyes widened slightly, confused and pleased.

"It is not too much to ask, is it?" she asked with a teasing grin.

"Uh, no, but... I just thought..."

"Chuck, I hope you'll forgive me for saying, but I believe we have both learned that life is too short and far too uncertain."

"That's the truth. All right, I know I've been saying it, but I seriously should get back to work now," he said, glancing at her sorrowfully as though he expected her to be offended by the comment.

"I understand."

"But maybe you want to have lunch or something, later?"

"I would like that."

"Okay." He stepped into the transport and flicked her a brief wave. Teyla smiled as she watched him go. She was reminded of something from her youth, a plant native only to Athos. It was a small but resilient flower, that only bloomed in shadow. Life was very interesting in that respect.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Some Bending Light Comes Along](https://archiveofourown.org/works/69506) by [NeoVenus22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoVenus22/pseuds/NeoVenus22)




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